The Shepheardes Calender: January
Note on this Renascence
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Ianuarye.
Ægloga
prima.
A R G V M E N
T.
IN this fyrst
Æglogue Colin clout a shepheardes boy complaineth
him of his vnfortunate loue, being but newly (as semeth) enamoured of a
countrie lasse called Rosalinde: with which strong affection being
very sore traueled, he compareth his carefull case to the sadde season
of the yeare, to the frostie ground, to the frosen trees, and to his owne
winterbeaten flocke. And lastlye, fynding himselfe robbed of all former
pleasaunce and delights, hee breaketh his Pipe in peeces, and casteth him
selfe to the ground.
COLIN Cloute.
Shepeheards boye (no better doe him call)
when Winters wastful spight was
almost spent,
All in a sunneshine day, as did
befall,
Led forth his flock, that had been
long ypent.
So faynt they woxe, and feeble in
the folde,
That now vnnethes
their feete could them vphold.
All as the Sheepe, such was
the shepeheards looke,
For pale and wanne he was, (alas
the while,)
May seeme he lovd, or els some care
he tooke:
Well couth
he tune his pipe, and frame his stile.
Tho to a hill his faynting flocke
he ledde,
And thus him playnd, the while his
shepe there fedde.
Ye gods of loue, that pitie
louers payne,
(if any gods the paine of louers
pitie:)
Looke from aboue, where you in ioyes
remaine,
And bowe your eares vnto my doleful
dittie.
And Pan thou shepheards God, that
once didst loue,
Pitie the paines, that thou thy
selfe didst proue.
Thou barrein ground, whome
winters wrath hath wasted,
Art made a myrrhour, to behold my
plight:
Whilome thy fresh spring flowrd,
and after hasted
Thy sommer prowde with Daffadillies
dight.
And now is come thy wynters stormy
state,
Thy mantle mard, wherein thou mas-kedst
late.
Such rage as winters, reigneth
in my heart,
My life bloud friesing with vnkindly
cold:
Such stormy stoures
do breede my balefull smarte,
As if my yeare were wast, and woxen
old.
And yet alas, but now my spring
begonne,
And yet alas, yt is already donne.
You naked trees, whose shady
leaves are lost,
Wherein the byrds were wont to build
their bowre:
And now are clothd with mosse and
hoary frost,
Instede of bloosmes, wherwith your
buds did flowre:
I see your teares, that from your
boughes doe raine,
Whose drops in drery ysicles remaine.
All so my lustfull leafe is
drye and sere,
My timely buds with wayling all
are wasted:
The blossome, which my braunch of
youth did beare,
With breathed sighes is blowne away,
& blasted,
And from mine eyes the drizling
teares descend,
As on your boughes the ysicles depend.
Thou feeble flocke, whose fleece
is rough and rent,
Whose knees are weak through fast
and evill fare:
Mayst witnesse well by thy ill gouernement,
Thy maysters mind is ouercome with
care.
Thou weak, I wanne: thou leane,
I quite forlorne:
With mourning pyne I, you with pyning
mourne.
A thousand sithes
I curse that carefull hower,
Wherein I longd the neighbour
towne to see:
And eke tenne thousand sithes I
blesse the stoure,
Wherein I sawe so fayre a sight,
as shee.
Yet all for naught: [such] sight
hath bred my bane.
Ah God, that loue should breede
both ioy and payne.
It is not Hobbinol,
wherefore I plaine,
Albee my loue he seeke with dayly
suit:
His clownish
gifts and curtsies I disdaine,
His kiddes, his cracknelles, and
his early fruit.
Ah foolish Hobbinol, thy
gyfts bene vayne:
Colin them gives to Rosalind
againe.
I loue
thilke lasse, (alas why doe I loue?)
And am forlorne, (alas why am I
lorne?)
Shee deignes not my good will, but
doth reproue,
And of my rurall musick holdeth
scorne.
Shepheards deuise she hateth as
the snake,
And laughes the songes, that Colin
Clout doth make.
Wherefore my pype, albee rude
Pan
thou please,
Yet for thou pleasest not, where
most I would:
And thou vnlucky Muse, that wontst
to ease
My musing mynd, yet canst not, when
thou should:
Both pype and Muse, shall sore the
while abye.
So broke his oaten pype, and downe
dyd lye.
By that, the welked Phoebus
gan availe,
His weary waine, and nowe the frosty
Night
Her mantle black through heauen
gan overhaile.
Which seene, the pensife boy halfe
in despight
Arose, and homeward drove his sonned
sheepe,
Whose hanging heads did seeme his
carefull case to weepe.
Colins Embleme.
Anchôra
speme.
GLOSSE.
COLIN
Cloute) is a name not greatly vsed, and yet haue I sene a Poesie of M.
Skeltons vnder that title. But indeede the word Colin is Frenche, and vsed
of the French Poete Marot (if he be worthy of the name of a Poete) in a
certein Æglogue. Vnder which name this Poete secretly shadoweth himself,
as sometime did Virgil vnder the name of Tityrus, thinking it much fitter,
then such Latine names, for the great vnlikelihoode of the language.
vnnethes)
scarcely.
couthe)
commeth of the verbe Conne, that is, to know or to haue skill. As well
interpreteth the worthy Sir Tho. Smitth in his booke of gouerment: wherof
I haue a perfect copie in wryting, lent me by his kinseman, and my verye
singular good freend, M. Gabriel Haruey: as also of some other his most
graue & excellent wrytings.
Sythe)
time.
Neighbour
towne) the next towne: expressing the Latine Vicina.
Stoure)
a fitt.
Sere)
withered.
His
clownish gyfts) imitateth Virgils verse,
Rusticus es
Corydon, nec munera curat Alexis.
Hobbinol)
is a fained country name, whereby, it being so commune and vsuall, seemeth
to be hidden the person of some his very speciall and most familiar freend,
whom he entirely and extraordinarily beloued, as peraduenture shall be
more largely declared hereafter. In thys place seemeth to be some sauour
of disorderly loue, which the learned call paederastice: but it is gathered
beside his meaning. For who that hath red Plato his dialogue called Alcibiades,
Xenophon and Maximus Tyrius of Socrates opinions, may easily perceiue,
that such loue is muche to be alowed and liked of, specially so meant,
as Socrates vsed it: who sayth, that in deede he loued Alcybiades extremely,
yet not Alcybiades person, but hys soule, which is Alcibiades owne selfe.
And so is pederastice much to be praeferred before gynerastice, that is
the loue whiche enflameth men with lust toward woman kind. But yet let
no man thinke, that herein I stand with Lucian or hys deuelish disciple
Vnico Aretino, in defence of execrable and horrible sinnes of forbidden
and vnlawful fleshlinesse. Whose abominable errour is fully confuted of
Perionius, and others.
I
loue) a prety Epanorthosis in these two verses, and withall a Paronomasia
or playing with the word, where he sayth (I loue thilke lasse (alas &c.
Rosalinde)
is also a feigned name, which being wel ordered, wil bewray the very name
of hys loue and mistresse, whom by that name he coloureth. So as Ouide
shadoweth hys loue vnder the name of Corynna, which of some is supposed
to be Iulia, themperor Augustus his daughter, and wyfe to Agryppa. So doth
Aruntius Stella euery where call his Lady Asteris and Ianthis, albe it
is well knowen that her right name was Violantilla: as witnesseth Statius
in his Epithalamium. And so the famous Paragone of Italy, Madonna Coelia
in her letters enuelopeth her selfe vnder the name of Zima: and Petron
[vnder] the name of Bellochia. And this generally hath bene a common custome
of counterfeicting the names of secret Personages.
Auail)
bring downe.
Overhaile)
drawe over.
Embleme.
His Embleme or Poesye
is here vnder added in Italian, Anchóra speme: the meaning wherof
is, that notwithstande his extreme passion and lucklesse loue, yet leaning
on hope, he is some what recomforted.
Go on to February.
Renascence
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